


A Sword Made Of Glass

by lady_libertine



Series: The Smith Of Probabilities [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blowjobs, Fluff, M/M, Philosophy, blowjobs and philosophy was the working title, bull puts his incredible store of patience to good use, handjobs, talking about the fade, virgin!solas, when solas says he isn't experienced he means he has no experience at all ever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 14:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12435195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_libertine/pseuds/lady_libertine
Summary: In retrospect, Cole is probably a lot better at matching people than anyone gives him credit for.Solas and Iron Bull share a mutual fascination.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gamerfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gamerfic/gifts).



> for gamerfic, i hope you like it!
> 
> much thanks to my beta!

It was hard to explain the concept of being Tal-vashoth.

The Chargers figured it wasn’t too much of a change. Krem privately told Iron Bull that he’d never exactly been a model Qunari. Compared to other Qunari that Krem had met, Bull had to agree with him.

“If you’re anything like that _Gatt_ ,” Krem snorted. “I haven’t seen it.”

The Chargers had good reasons to hate the Qun. They had all been furious when they’d learned that Gatt had wanted to sacrifice them, and Bull didn’t begrudge them that. None of them seemed to grasp the problem, even so. 

Sera had a problem with authority in general, proclaiming it was good he wasn’t Qunari anymore, because that freed him up to follow less rules. Not exactly what he was going for, but he was glad for her input.

Dorian likewise wasn’t very easy to talk to about the Qun. Being a Tevinter mage, he naturally had a longstanding distaste for the Qun. Beyond the lingering Tevinter hostilities, he took issue with their treatment of magic and mages. Even Vivienne agreed with Dorian in that regard, although she didn’t speak of it often.

Apart from any individual ideology, it was hard to ignore how under the Qun, Dorian and Vivienne would have their lips sewn up and a mask belted over their faces, if they weren’t killed for being too dangerous to live. It was pretty difficult to defend to Qun to any mage, so Bull didn’t try very hard. 

Cassandra seemed to think it meant he should seek the light of Andraste. That was fine for her and all, but it wasn’t as if the world was a zero sum game between Andraste and the Qun. The Inquisitor alone proved that. It was nice of her to try and provide options, but ultimately, worshiping Andraste seemed like a bit of a dead end. 

Blackwall understood the meaning of mistakes, but as Bull wasn’t sure whether his decision to _save_ his men was the right one, they didn’t have much in common. Mostly he offered to share a drink, which was a pretty good offer, in all honesty.

Varric just shrugged, and said he was glad the Chargers were alive.

“Not really sure what the big deal about the Qun is Tiny,” he admitted. “But then again, they kind of invaded Kirkwall that one time, so I’m biased.”

Cole did his best to sympathize, but ultimately since he saved the Chargers’ lives, Cole had no idea why Bull was feeling conflicted. 

“You saved them,” Cole insisted. “It wasn’t wrong. It was a good thing you did.”

“Sure,” Bull said. “I know.”

“But you still feel like it might have been a mistake. You should have listened to what Gatt said.”

“Yeah,” Bull admitted. 

“That would have been wrong.”

“I know that, too.”

Then Cole looked at Bull, his blue eyes wide and baffled. Then he nodded. “Solas can help,” he said, absolutely certain.

“Kid, I don’t know if--”

Cole vanished, and Bull sighed. Now he supposed he’d have the smug Fadewalker prying into his every decision. 

Solas was alright, but a profoundly weird man, not like anyone Bull had ever met. He disliked the Qun, for their treatment of mages, but also because he thought that it inhibited freedom. Bull was never sure what to make of his arguments. Arguing against the Qun on a purely philosophical basis wasn’t common, and the way Solas prized freedom over happiness was unusual. 

Solas was also the only one who had said anything that made Bull feel remotely better about being Tal-vashoth. He’d heard Bull’s worries of going savage, and promised if that happened, there would always be people to stop him. For some reason, that comforted Bull more than being told it would never happen. 

Sure enough, the next day he ran into Solas outside of the Herald’s Rest. Normally Solas kept to his office under the library, although he had been known to fall asleep in odd places. 

“Cole is concerned about you,” Solas said by way of greeting. 

Bull sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “He mentioned.” 

“He believed you had a question that I might be able to answer.”

Bull shrugged. “Not sure about that. I think he just saw something in my head, and couldn’t figure out how to help.”

“Might I ask what it is?” 

Bull glanced at Solas, who looked calmly back. His face was unreadable most of the time, gray eyes giving nothing away. Most of the time, that was. A few questions and statements had made him shake his calm mask, but he didn’t seem to have a lot of feelings other than calm, pissed off, and moody. He was awfully good at masking his true emotions for someone who claimed to have spent the majority of their life isolated. 

“Ah, more shit about being Tal-vashoth,” Bull said, grimacing. “That nightmare demon...didn’t really help anything.”

“Of course not. It was not in its nature to be helpful.”

Bull snorted. “Got that right.” he peered at Solas. “It gave you shit, too, but you still had a good time.”

Solas was the lone person among the group who’d been anything other than horrified and confused to be in the Fade at Adamant, and this fact continued to be baffling to Iron Bull. 

The nightmare demon had targeted Solas as well as the rest of them. It spoke to them each individually, laying out fears and anxieties for all of them to hear. In Solas’ case, it had spoken in Elvhen, a language Bull couldn’t parse. They had all tried to shake off the demon’s words, but Solas seemed the most unbothered.

The demon had been angry with their progress, and moved on from speaking to pulling up more tangible fears. It had conjured a graveyard, decorated with everyone’s worst fears, and had been uncomfortably intimate to look at. Everyone’s fears had been spread open for them to see, and with a start Bull recalled the tombstone emblazoned with the phrase _dying alone_. 

“I mean, apart from the demon,” he amended.

“It was not the area I would have chosen,” Solas said. “Somewhere less hostile would have been preferable. It was fascinating, however.”

“Sure, you could call it that,” Bull said. 

“I would pay what it told you little mind,” Solas said. “It lived off of fear and the energy it produced--what you fear is not a foretelling of what will occur.” 

Bull came to the startled realization that Solas too most likely remembered what the demon had told him. 

And the graveyard. That knowledge made Bull’s stomach drop. 

“Yeah--same for you,” Bull said, and Solas gave him a curious look.

“I am aware of that.” his tone went flat, something in his expression hardening. Bull decided to back off of that course of conversation a bit. 

“Anyway. I think I got it covered,” Bull said. “Cole’s just kind of...like that. I think he’s gotten pushier since he got more human.”

Solas smiled. He hadn’t approved of Cole becoming more human, but Cole seemed incapable of making Solas unhappy for long. “Perhaps,” he said. “Or perhaps he is merely more noticeable. He still wishes to help.”

Bull couldn’t help a shudder. “Yeah--it’s still...weird,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “He acts a little more human, but I dunno…at least people remember him now.” 

“Possibly. You would, of course, not realize if you had forgotten seeing him.”

“Yeah, I don’t need to think about shit like that.” 

Solas gave him that infuriating smirk that substituted for a real smile most of the time. “Is it not a useful distraction from your other troubles?” 

“Replace thinking about creepy shit with more creepy shit. Yeah, that’s perfect,” Bull said, voice dripping with irony. “Is that what you do all day?” 

“Sometimes,” Solas shrugged. “Sometimes it is useful to replace one’s deeper fears with different ones.” 

“I think I like getting hit with a stick better.” 

“I am uncertain why you find that method preferable.” 

“Well, there’s other ways,” Iron Bull grinned. “But we don’t have too many dancing girls around here. It’s too bad, really.” 

Solas sighed. “Yes, that is one way of keeping one’s mind off of their concerns,” he said, clearly highly disapproving. 

“Or dancing boys, whichever.” 

To Bull’s surprise, a flush had started to creep up Solas’ neck. 

“I haven’t had many occasions to observe dancers of any kind,” Solas said. “Or much of anything in that area.”

“You should try it sometime,” Bull said. “It’s good to stop thinking about creepy stuff for once.” Honestly, there were several people in Skyhold that advice could apply to. 

“Perhaps,” Solas said. 

“Not that weird mental chess games aren’t good too,” Bull assured him, clapping him on the shoulder. 

That got an interesting response. Solas startled, his back going ramrod straight for a moment before he forced himself to relax. Bull pretended he didn’t notice this. 

“If Cole comes to you again, tell him you sorted it out,” Bull said. “Got some other things to think about.”

“Oh--well, good,” Solas said, rather lamely. This was also interesting. “I’m pleased to help.” 

With that, Solas wandered off to do whatever he did during the day. Bull still wasn’t quite sure what his research entailed. Honestly, once any of the mages got too deep into magical theory, it was infuriatingly hard to understand. Solas’ work in particular was odd and abstract even for mages, and if he had a favorite subject, his work was one. 

In any case, Bull did indeed have something else to think about.

If Solas was going to help Bull with the Qun, the least Bull could do was return the favor. The loneliness thing had to go. Clearly Solas’ reactions to touch, his nervousness around groups of people, and that fear in the Fade were all connected. 

Bull wasn’t a reeducator, but he knew that solitude was one of those things they had in their arsenal. To hear Solas tell it, he’d spent an awful lot of time only in the company of spirits, and no matter what he said, that couldn’t be very good for anyone. 

Loneliness was something Bull had a fix for, at least a temporary one. Unfortunately, simple fixes weren’t what Solas seemed to go for. 

Cole appeared to be on Bull’s side. 

“Helping him helps you,” he said. “It makes you more real.”

“I’m already real,” Bull said. “Aren’t you the one who had more problems with that sort of thing?”

“It’s not the same,” Cole informed him. “Solas doesn’t want help. But he needs it.”

“Is that so?”

Cole nodded. “He’d be better if more people tried to understand,” he said. “You should do that.” 

“Understand what?”

“Everything he doesn’t want to talk about.” 

Despite being more human, Cole had an infuriating tendency to speak in riddles and half-measures. 

So, Bull decided to be straightforward and make overtures. First more subtle, then more blatant. 

He had the sneaking suspicion that that awful fear was the reason Solas was so withdrawn. Sometimes people in their effort to pull away from their fears ran right towards them without meaning to. A fear of being alone could be put off by never being around people in the first place. Company sometimes made loneliness that much sharper. 

Solas’ wall of isolation was rather difficult to get through, however. He was happy to talk to Bull alone, but balked at being around other people. Invitations to gatherings in the Herald’s Rest were immediately met with a claim of business. It seemed as if Solas rarely spoke to anyone apart from Cole, the Inquisitor, and those members of the inner circle brave enough to strike up a conversation with him. 

Talking seemed to be enough for now, and that was a pretty good cure for loneliness. Bull still didn’t manage to get anything out of him other than stories about spirits and strange places, and chess games. Solas tended to win those. Not all the time, but the majority of the time. According to Blackwall, Solas was “infuriatingly good at games”, which was odd, considering how few people Solas would ever have had to play them with. 

The reaction to touch was still strange, and worrying. It seemed any touch at all startled Solas, even something as casual as a clap on the back. It was also a surefire way to distract him, even if only for a minute or two. 

Solas never touched anyone else, even to tap someone on the shoulder. If he wanted to get someone’s attention, he used his voice. 

Bull made a point to visit him more often, to try and figure him out more. He was one of the strangest people Bull had ever met, and that was saying something. Bull was usually pretty adept at figuring out people’s needs, but beyond pure companionship, Solas’ needs required a lot of puzzling out. Fortunately, Solas seemed quite receptive anytime someone asked him a question. Well, most of the time, anyway. Blackwall had mentioned he got somewhat flustered when asked about “intimacy with spirits.”

“Right, so if you can’t fly in the Fade, and can’t take the chance to bang hot Fade ladies, what exactly is the point?” Bull asked him one slow evening. The pair of them were in Solas’ office. Solas absently sketched in a workbook, Bull was thumbing through an incredibly dull report about the Hissing Wastes. 

“There are many reasons to explore the Fade,” Solas said. “Learning the history of an area is fascinating, and speaking with spirits is much like speaking with people in the physical world.”

“Not if they all talk like Cole.”

“There is a pattern to the way spirits speak, just as there is one to the way we speak. One only has to recognize what it is.”

“On the level of learning another language?” 

Solas glanced at him in a surprised way. “Not quite as difficult,” he said. “But I suppose the principles are comparable. Incidentally, I would not suggest learning a language via the Fade--it would be like trying to learn mathematics within a dream. There are too many details that can be lost.”

“I...wasn’t planning on doing either of those anytime soon,” Bull said, blinking. “But good to know. Mind you, I’ve only ever had nightmares where math is involved.”

“A common anxiety, for some reason.” 

Bull frowned to himself. “Hey--how do spirits speak the same language we do?” he asked. “Shouldn’t it be way weirder if they don’t understand the real world too well? I mean, the way they talk is still weird, but I kind of know what it is.”

“Spirits are a reflection of the physical world,” Solas said with a shrug. “We imbue them with our thoughts. We give them shape and form and language, although they may not understand those things the same way we do.” he peered at Bull. “I am surprised that you are so interested. Do demons not trouble you?”

“Sure, but it’s not like I’m planning to hang out with them any time soon,” Bull reminded him. “And it’s always useful to know the most about something you might end up fighting.”

“If you go to a spirit expecting a fight, they will give one to you,” Solas informed him. “It will assume that is what you want.”

“Well--I mean, sometimes, sure,” Bull said. 

“Then it would happen _sometimes_.”

“Oh--come on,” Bull groaned. “It is so much easier when I just have to fight them.”

“You are the one who asked the question,” Solas said, amused. “And in any case, having a more complex understanding of spirits decreases the chance that they will be hostile. If you believe them to be complicated, like people are, then they shall be.”

“I don’t think hanging out with them in the Fade is the same thing as being with real people,” Bull said.

“They _are_ real people.”

“Fine, but it’s still not the same, is it? Seeing something happen is different from experiencing it.”

“That is true,” Solas agreed.

“Did you miss things, being in the Fade all the time? Before joining the Inquisition.”

Solas blinked. “No,” he said. “The Fade and the physical world are two sides of one whole.”

“Except for how the only other people there are spirits,” Bull pointed out. “And you aren’t a spirit. You live here, don’t you?”

“One can be in both places.” 

“Sure, but you talk about mostly being in the Fade,” Bull shifted in his chair, examining Solas’ expression. “Being in just the Fade probably isn’t great for a real person--or a physical person, if you like.”

“There is more that has interested me in the Fade,” Solas said. “Until recently, I had little reason to be in the physical world as often as others.”

Now that was interesting. “Is that so?” Bull leaned forward. “Why?”

“An apostate mage is rarely welcomed anywhere except the Fade,” Solas pointed out. “An elven apostate, even moreso.” his face acquired that slightly sour look he got when mentioning this fact. 

“But there’s no problem with that here,” Bull reminded him. “You should try actually being in both places, not just coming up here for air every once in awhile.”

He put his hand on Solas’ forearm. A potentially dangerous move, as Bull had no idea how Solas would react to that. The reaction he got was a surprise.

Solas blushed, cheeks going pink, and he glanced down at the hand on his arm. After a moment, he drew away. 

“An interesting perspective,” he said, eyes darting away from Bull’s face. “I shall have to consider that.” 

Alright. That was it. The blushing was adorable, and it was pretty ridiculous how a pointy arrogant prick like Solas ever entered into the realm of _adorable_. 

Obviously, Bull had to see it happen again. For research purposes, of course. 

However, progress on the front of ‘make Solas less of a weird reclusive loner’ wasn’t being made very quickly. For one, it was difficult to avoid how many people were honestly nervous around him. None of the inner circle, of course, but lots of other people tended to be wary. It was difficult to ignore just how much of an effect being an apostate elf had on people. Servants and soldiers alike would make themselves scarce around him, without him having to do a thing. 

This was particularly interesting, as before Bull had made efforts to be friendly and make it known he was safe to be around, the exact same thing happened to him. People were pretty much terrified of Qunari under any circumstances. That garbage that the Arishok had pulled in Kirkwall had done no one any favors. 

If Bull was being honest with himself, the attitudes around magic probably had a lot to do with Solas’ behavior. Now, Dorian and Vivienne didn’t let it bother them at all. Dorian tended to scoff at the implication he was anything other than perfect, which made insults or fear slide off. Vivienne agreed that magic was dangerous, and reveled in being terrifying besides. However, Solas got downright offended when people talked about being afraid of magic. 

Bull never really understood how exactly Solas was so friendly with magic and spirits. Even other mages didn’t have the ease with magic that he did. The Dalish and Avvar mages he’d met were cautious enough, even if the Avvar were scary in how much they liked to speak with spirits. 

Bull had to admit that being raised in the Qun definitely had an impact on how he saw mages. It colored the perspective on magic when the only mages one knew were saarebas, and the only things heard about magic were about how dangerous it was.

Solas, on the other hand, considered magic much like water. Dangerous if one didn’t know how to swim, deadly if one was caught in a flood, but vital and useful and genuinely pleasing. Not even the most liberal Dalish or Avvar or apostate that Bull had ever met behaved this way.

That made the Ben-hassrath part of Bull very, very nervous. But then again, it was possible Ben-hassrath instincts weren’t the margin by which to measure things anymore, considering Bull was no longer one of them.


	2. II

Solas wasn’t sure what to think about Bull’s sudden interest in him. It wasn’t bad, per se, it was just...strange. He really wasn’t sure what Bull’s endgame was, or if he even had one. 

Solas did have a guess as to what might have spurred this interest. A combination of things, really. For one, leaving the Qun doubtless made Bull think differently about things he had previously considered normal. For another, the business in the Fade at Adamant had caused Bull, Sera, and Cadash all to look at him a bit differently. 

The Nightmare demon had managed to pull fears from all of them. A cursory examination of one’s mind would end up reflected in the Fade, and irritatingly, the demon had yanked what it understood to be primal fears from them, to show them to everyone. It was uncomfortably intimate, lending Solas a closeness to his companions that was not wanted. 

The demon had spoken to them at first, but upon deciding that did no good, it began to show tangible fears for all of them. What stood out in particular was the graveyard, a sordid little display that showed the deepest fears of not just those in the Fade, but all of the Inquisitor’s close friends and allies.

Iron Bull’s great fear had been ‘madness,’ and the demon likewise played upon fears of possession. This made sense. 

Solas’ own fears were themed with loneliness and tinged with guilt, which also made sense, although he could see why this might have piqued Bull’s interest. The man had an interminable habit of acquiring ugly ducklings. 

He wasn’t sure the nature of Bull’s interest, whether it be friendship or something else. Bull was usually very clear on that front, so Solas was relatively certain his interest was platonic. However, there was always the possibility that there was something else. 

It did not help at all that Iron Bull was attractive in Solas’ eyes. Normally this wasn’t an issue, but it was somewhat distracting. He’d always had a weakness for muscles and Iron Bull had them in abundance. He had even more of a weakness for intelligent people who desired to learn things and asked hard questions, a trait which Bull also displayed in abundance.

There was, of course, a third possibility, one that Bull was specifically searching for information about him. However, he didn’t seem to press on Solas’ past much, already having come to his own conclusions. 

The one good thing about being an ‘apostate’ was that no one cared to think too deeply about where he had come from. There were many apostates, even ones as strange as he, who stayed isolated in strange far-flung places. It could even be supposed that Solas was Dalish at some point, due to the strange ideas people had about the Dalish clans. Even the intelligent and the curious, such as Leliana or Dorian or Iron Bull, stopped pressing for information when Solas insinuated that his past was unpleasant. 

Although Iron Bull was intelligent enough to become suspicious, Solas’ own reputation protected him. It would be difficult to connect the monstrous beast Fen’harel to a middle-aged apostate, even if one believed in Fen’harel in the first place. 

So the possibility that Bull was fishing for information was not very likely It was completely plausible that Iron Bull was genuinely trying to become closer to Solas, for one reason or another. This was also a bit unsettling, but not necessarily unwelcome. 

Iron Bull was fiercely intelligent, and Solas respected him far more now that he had chosen to leave the Qun. Even if turning from the Qun had been spurred by Cadash, the fact that Bull had gone through with it proved his strength of will. His loyalty to his mercenary group was another good point, how he had been willing to leave the Qun for them.

Solas could not deny he found Bull’s mind and personality intriguing, showing a rebelliousness that Solas strongly favored. He had a bloodthirstiness that Solas was not overly fond of, but it was not uncommon in those who did a great deal of fighting. 

These qualities were to be greatly valued in a friend. If Bull desired something more, well, Solas was not quite sure how he felt about that, but he could not deny the idea had a great deal of appeal. An appeal that grew rather steadily, as a matter of fact.

“So, if the Qun didn’t have that whole issue with mages, what would you think about it?” Bull asked Solas during another occasion. The pair of them were in the garden in the early morning, when most of the people usually there were at Chantry services. Solas liked gardens, especially when they were quiet. Bull seemed to hold the same opinion. 

“It matters little treatment of individual classes when the entire system is devoted to crushing an individual’s will,” Solas said. “The abuse of mages and spirits is simply a side effect of larger problems.”

Bull growled to himself, frustrated with the answer. “You’ve mentioned. But how is being able to choose really that much better? Most people in Thedas don’t choose their lives. At least with the Qun, you have someone who knows what to do.”

“Who is to say that someone else knows your life better than you do?” Solas asked. “If you make a mistake, at least it was yours. If you are the slave to someone else, and they make a mistake, there is nothing to be done.”

“Mm,” Bull furrowed his brow. “Makes sense. I have had a few bad commanders.”

“There you are, then.” 

“Even so--the Qun tends to work for most people in it. You have Tal-vashoth, and the mages, but most everyone else…” he trailed off. “Well, most everyone else seemed okay.”

“As did you. Yet here you are.” 

“Alright, then what do you think the Qun should be?” Bull asked. 

“Nonexistent.”

“Besides that,” Bull said, rolling his eye. 

Solas sighed. “The Qun is based entirely upon fear, upon the idea that individuals cannot be trusted with their own decisions. It is also based on power. I believe that those in positions of authority benefit far more than the ones they control do. There is very little I could do to make the Qun a functioning society, apart from destroying it and starting again.”

“The Qun is already functioning,” Bull pointed out. “It isn’t like Orlais, or Tevinter--both of them seem pretty caught up in their own political shit. The Qun isn’t.”

“As far as we are aware, no.” Solas nodded. “Except for the perpetual war with Tevinter, and the struggles in Seheron. War without end is the sign of a society that will fail the moment it has no concrete enemy to fight.” 

“Yeah, Seheron is a mess,” Bull agreed. “It’s kind of a leap to go from that to saying it doesn’t work, though.” 

“Is it not? They are not succeeding, nor are they failing. If the Qunari could outmatch Tevinter, it would have done so by now--yet they have not. And Tevinter is a crumbling empire, by no means what it once was.” 

Iron Bull rumbled to himself, not satisfied. “It’s kinda weird how much you know about politics for a guy who sleeps out in the woods.”

Solas shrugged. “The Fade offers many such memories, and many angles from which to view past events.”

“How do you do that, anyway?” Bull asked. “I’ve never been able to figure it out. My dreams are always a weird--mishmash of images, stuff I’ve seen before, that sort of thing. Even if I know I’m in a dream I’ve never seen something that happened in the past.”

Solas’ face lit up, like it always did when someone asked him about the Fade. “One’s mind is but a small part of the Fade,” he explained. “For those without magic, they are prevented from seeing the whole of the Fade by their lack of magic. Mages are easier able to access the Fade, due to their stronger connection.” 

“Sure, but how do _places_ have memories?”

“The larger Fade is a reflection of the physical world. Spirits are drawn to places of high emotion, but the Fade itself retains images. Everything dreams, even moss and stone.”

“Not dwarves,” Bull reminded him.

Solas made a face. “I...take issue with that,” he said. “I am not entirely sure that is accurate.” 

“How so? No dwarf I’ve ever met has dreamed.” 

“Dwarves do not remember their dreams, no,” Solas said. “This seems universal. However, they do leave behind imprints in the Fade--there are ghosts in old Thaigs, and images of dwarves remain in the Fade. They cannot have no dreaming mind.” 

“Why not?”

“Simply because everything else does,” Solas said. “Animals, plants, stones and water all leave imprints in the Fade. Animals do appear to dream. If dwarves leave imprints in the Fade, why should they be so different as to not dream?”

Bull propped his chin on his hand. “Huh,” he raised his eyebrow. “But why don’t they remember dreams, then? Or have magic?” he frowned. “Come to think of it--cats and dogs dream, but they don’t have magic.”

“I am not certain,” Solas said, frowning to himself. “I believe this inconsistency has something to do with the properties of the Veil, but I could not say precisely what properties those are.” 

“Magic is so weird,” Bull shook his head. “It gets weirder every time I hear about it.”

“I find many things to be the same,” Solas said. “The world is a very strange place. One cannot dwell upon the strangeness, however, and must simply strive to understand it.”

“If I worried every time something didn’t make any sense, I’d never get any sleep,” Bull agreed. “Though I’m still not sure how _you_ get any sleep.”

“It is quite simple. One closes their eyes and does not move for some time.” Solas ducked his head, hiding a smirk. 

Bull snorted. “You know what I mean,” he said, gently bumping Solas’ shoulder with his fist. 

They continued in this way for some time, having long conversations and curious exchanges that didn’t seem to go one way or the other. Iron Bull grew more intrigued, and the more Solas talked, the more he revealed about himself. 

It was a terrible thing, to feel so alone among such a large crowd. Bull could relate. 

Likewise, Solas had a growing fascination with Bull. He reminded Solas in some ways of people he had known in the past, and the familiarity was comforting.

So things went, until one night, a stray nightmare woke Bull from an already tumultuous sleep. Upon wakening, he found he couldn’t return to his rest. 

He left his room and wandered out to the battlements, the cold night air washing the nightmare away. The sky was winter clear, the stars and moon bright overhead.

“Unpleasant dreams, I see.” 

Iron Bull didn’t jump, but he was still surprised when Solas came up beside him. Solas had clearly just woken as well, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He was barefoot, and wore a blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders instead of a dressing gown or more conventional sleepwear. 

“Don’t tell me you can poke around in people’s heads like the kid can,” Bull sighed. That would be about the last thing he needed. 

“No, not without some effort on my part.” Solas looked out over the wall, down into the valley below. “I can, however, always feel disturbances. I noticed that it was your dreams that were disturbed.” 

“That’s...almost as creepy, honestly.”

Solas sighed, a familiar irritation crossing his face. “If I did not control the ability, it would control me. One does not want a Somniari who cannot control their gift near hundreds of people.” 

“What happens then?”

“Quite a number of things are possible,” Solas said. “It can lead to deaths, of various kinds. Possessions are another possibility, tears in the Veil...it is not what I would consider an overly favorable option.” 

Bull leaned his elbows on the wall. “Right.” 

They stood in silence for a moment or two. Solas tilted his head, and his eyes caught the moonlight, gleaming for a moment. “There are ways to make nightmares less trying. There are even ways to prevent them completely.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not do too much mucking around in my own head.”

Solas huffed. “If you do not know your own mind, you open the possibilities for others to control you. In any case, control of one’s dreams is not magic.” 

“How so?” 

“Have you ever been in a dream, and been aware of the fact?”

“Once or twice,” Bull admitted. “Not for very long, though.”

“There are methods by which one can induce that state intentionally. It is purely a mental effort.”

Bull shrugged. “That’s okay,” he said. “Might be interesting, but...I don’t really even want to think about going back to sleep now.”

“I suppose there are other cures for nightmares,” Solas said. 

“Yeah, there are,” Bull chuckled. “But no one else besides you is awake this time of night. Can’t get any sparring or anything else in.”

“I was referring to conversation, or perhaps the sky,” Solas said primly, folding his arms. “But those function just as well.”

The moonlight softened the harsh angles of Solas’ face, gentling his expression. He looked more peaceful here, and Bull noticed that his shoulders were relaxed. He gazed up at the moon, expression thoughtful, but there was a strange sorrow tinging his face. 

“Something wrong?” Bull asked. 

“Hm?” Solas glanced at him, face resuming a placid mask. “No. I am merely...considering.”

“Considering what?” Bull sidled closer to him. He had a sudden urge to reach out and try and wipe that sadness away, even for just a little while.

“Is the sky different here than it is in Par Vollen?”

Bull glanced up at the stars. “Yeah,” he said. “The constellations are changed. It’s just because Par Vollen is so far away.”

“Do you call the constellations by different names? Do you have names for them at all?”

Bull nodded. “It’s not really supposed to be talked about a whole lot, but we do. Names and stories.”

Solas hummed to himself. “What are they like?”

“Well--I can’t point them out,” Bull said, trying to remember. “There were a lot of dragon themed ones.”

Solas chuckled. “Of course there were.”

“There were...the Twins, who were supposed to chase each other around the sky. The Dragon-Daughter, who I guess was supposed to be one of the first Qunari, but she’s never mentioned in the history. I think someone just made her up, ‘cause of the whole dragon thing.” Bull ran a hand over the back of his head. “There’s some ones just named after stuff--you know, basket, bow, that sort of thing. There’s a real strange one called the Friends--I mean, sort of. The actual meaning in Qunlat is...kind of arcane.” 

“How so?” Solas glanced at Bull, fascination shining in his eyes. 

“It might translate as something like ‘the Lovers,’ but we don’t really have a word for that in Qunlat. Or maybe we used to, a long time ago.”

“The Qun discourages love,” Solas shrugged, as if this was common knowledge. “All tyrants discourage ties that are not directly to them. Perhaps the word was lost.”

“Yeah,” Bull nodded. “Maybe.” it was reasonable enough, and wasn’t even untrue. The Qun made it clear that most kinds of love, except that love between friends and shieldmates, was impractical and unacceptable. 

“It is fascinating that even in Par Vollen, the people tell stories,” Solas said, looking back up at the sky. “Even in such a place, people have dreams of other lives.” 

“People tell stories everywhere,” Bull said. “I don’t think it makes a difference where you are.” 

“No. Perhaps not. Perhaps it only matters what kind of stories are told.” Solas drew his blanket tighter about himself. “The stars move over time, did you know?”

“Yeah,” Bull nodded. “Wait a few thousand years and all the constellations’ll be messed up.”

“Exactly. One can watch the change in the Fade. The ancient Elvhen had different names, different stories for the stars. Different myths and tales.” 

“I guess everyone has those, too.” 

That sadness was back, and Solas looked as if he were far away, as if he might as well have been on another plane entirely. 

“Hey,” Bull said, and reached out, gently turning Solas’ face to his. Solas blinked, surprised, but didn’t pull away. Instead he reached up, to gingerly touch Bull’s hand. 

Bull’s lips met Solas’. 

Bull pulled away from him, and Solas blinked. He looked rather like someone had hit him in the back of a head with a board.

“Ah,” he nodded, as if only just having worked out a puzzle. “I see.” he hesitated a moment, long enough that Bull worried he’d made a serious miscalculation, before wrapping his arms around Bull’s neck and kissing him back with a startling ferocity. 

He finally pulled away, arms still around Bull.

“Wow,” Bull said. “I definitely wasn’t expecting that.”

Even in the moonlight, Bull could see that Solas flushed a very deep red.

“I...this is not wise,” Solas said at last. 

“Hey, no loss if you don’t want to,” Bull said. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Solas nodded, and stepped away, looking back over the mountains. 

“Solas,” he took Solas’ hand, very gently, so Solas could pull away with ease if he wanted to. A shudder went through the elf, but he didn’t draw back. “Seriously. Unless an army comes through that gate tomorrow, I’m staying put.”

Solas met his eyes again, a curious expression that Bull could not place inside them. “I have never thought otherwise,” he said. “But I thank you for the sentiment.” 

Solas left, then, presumably returning to his bed. Bull watched him leave, uncertain of the outcome this would have.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here's where that explicit rating comes in (also the 'solas is a virgin' tag lmao)

Solas was sitting on a wall near the training yards, reading. Well, Bull was pretty sure he was reading at least some of the time. Every time Bull glanced over his head would be over his book, but Bull could feel eyes on him whenever he looked away. 

This was particularly odd as Solas hardly ever came to the training yards. The mages tended to practice in fireproof areas, and Solas wasn’t often called upon to demonstrate magical attacks. 

Krem noticed him, too. 

“You’ve got a shadow, Chief,” Krem nodded towards the elf while he and Bull sparred. 

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bull said, knocking Krem back. Krem held his own, then shoved forward to lock his shield against Bull’s axe. 

“I mean, he’s not here for anyone else,” Krem said. “‘Least, I’m pretty sure he’s not.” 

“Maybe he’s got an eye on you,” Bull suggested. 

Krem snorted. “Not likely. Too spooky for me. He’s almost as bad as the kid. But you like spooky, so I figured...”

“What are you talking about?”

Krem rolled his eyes. “Chief. All the Chargers are either weird or just crazy. You like hanging out with that weird kid, and don’t tell me Pavus isn’t at least a little spooky. The man resurrects corpses for fun.” 

Bull considered that. “Dorian’s not so bad,” he said. Dorian was pretty great, actually, once one got past all the defensive arrogance. On the other hand, Dorian did have a really weird fondness for corpses, so maybe Krem had a point.

“Not the point, Chief. The _point_ is you really like weirdos. It’s kind of a thing with you.”

Bull sighed. “Maybe,” he agreed. 

When the sparring was finished, Krem jerked his head in Solas’ direction, prompting Bull to go to him. Bull smiled and shook his head. Krem had the slightest matchmaking streak in him, and it was always amusing to watch. 

Solas was still reading his book when Bull came up to him.

“Enjoying the show?” Bull grinned at him.

“I am...considering,” Solas said, turning a page. 

“There’s a lot to consider.”

Solas snorted and finally looked up. “Indeed.”

Bull sat down next to him. “So, what’s up?”

Solas closed his book. “You have...shown an interest,” he said at length, a pink flush creeping up his neck. 

“Sure. I can stop, if you--”

“No, that...I do not mind.” 

“Not minding isn’t really the same as actually wanting something.”

Solas’ eyes darted away from him, the flush growing more intense. “I...it has been a long time since...I was close to anyone,” he admitted at length. “Friends or otherwise.” 

“I figured.” 

“I--am not sure if it is wise,” he said. 

“Then we don’t have to do anything,” Bull said, leaning back. 

Solas sighed, a frown appearing between his brows. “The attention is...not unwanted,” he said at last. 

“So...does that mean you _do_ want it?” Bull had a pretty large store of patience, and this was where that came in handy. Solas was, somehow, even worse than Dorian in the ‘talking about one’s feelings’ department.

Solas met his gaze at last. He put a hand over Bull’s. 

“It has been a long time since I could trust anyone,” he said. “You are someone I would gladly trust.”

And that was important, so vital and clear that it left Bull speechless for a moment. He took Solas’ hand, gently as he had on the battlements. 

“Alright,” he said softly. “Then tell me what you want.” 

Solas gingerly leaned up and pressed a kiss to Bull’s lips. “That, for the moment,” he said, pulling away. “Later...I am unsure.”

“Then we can talk about it later,” Bull said with a smile. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

There was, unfortunately, little opportunity to talk, as the Inquisitor needed both of them to come with her on one of her expeditions. Between fighting Venatori and closing rifts, they had little time to themselves. Iron Bull would have been happy talking about their particular relationship among company, but had the distinct impression that would have driven Solas off entirely. 

They came to the Forbidden Oasis after trekking through the Western Approach for days. In spite of the wild dogs and hyenas that infested the place, The Oasis was a nice change of pace. After clearing out the giants, wild dogs, and unwelcome Venatori, the ruin and accompanying oasis was claimed by the Inquisition. 

The Inquisitor decided it was a good time for her and her entourage to have a well-deserved break. The pools in the center of the Oasis were the first bodies of water they’d seen since they’d been hunting Venatori in the Approach, and they were going to take full advantage of that. 

Even Sera, who normally thought of bathing as a bit of an irritating pastime, was grateful for the opportunity to wash. It might have also had something to do with Inquisitor Cadash whispering in Sera’s ear. Whatever she said made her blush and cackle, before she tossed her bow aside and ran off into a more secluded nook, hand in hand with Cadash.

This left Solas and Iron Bull alone for the first time in days. The two of them found another rock formation out of sight and sound of curious passerby, and Solas even set silencing wards.

“I guess we have a couple hours,” Bull said with a chuckle. 

Solas raised his eyebrows. “Perhaps more, depending on Sera’s preferences.” he said. 

“Maybe more like a day, then,” Bull said. 

Modesty was never something Bull had grown up with. Through the veins of Qunari ran dragons’ blood, or so the legends went, and they always ran hot. In any case, it was too hot in Par Vollen to be bothered, as the humid jungle was oppressive when one wore too many clothes. It was kind of nice how cool it was in the south, to be honest. 

So he shrugged off his armor and sank into the pool with hardly a second thought, only thinking after he had done so that Solas might be a bit more prudish. He’d never seen the man without long sleeves, even in the desert or when they shared a tent. 

And of course, Solas still wasn’t clear on how much he wanted from their coupling. Bull had known some people who weren’t comfortable with sex at all, and others who were extremely nervous about the concept or had troublesome memories relating to it. 

Well, it wasn’t like they were doing anything now, and Bull was covered in dust. No big. 

Solas hovered on the other end of the pool, sitting on a rocky outcropping. His eyes traveled up and down Bull’s body. 

“Something the matter?” Bull asked.

Solas shook his head. “No,” he slowly pulled off his boots (a sad necessity when walking in the desert, or so he privately thought) and removed his outer layers of armor, setting them aside in a neat pile. Now wearing only an undershirt and leggings, he dipped his bare feet into the water with a sigh. 

“Do you always take this long to get undressed?” Bull asked. 

Solas frowned at him. “We cannot all have the fortune to not be easily sunburned,” he pointed out. “Some people need to wear layers.” 

Bull chuckled. Solas had spent the entire trip hiding inside his hood, for fear of burning his entire head. Sera suffered terrible sunburns on her face and ears before acquiescing to a hood as well. 

Solas spent another minute or two considering, before at last removing his undershirt and his leggings.

Solas let the last of his clothing fall, and Iron Bull got an idea of where Solas might have acquired his modest nature from.

The man was slender, not as razor thin as some elves, but still thinner than Sera, despite his broad shoulders. More muscled than Bull would have guessed, he didn’t have a soft edge to him, his body composed almost entirely of hard angles. He was pale, with freckles dotting his shoulders. 

That wasn’t what caught the immediate attention, however. 

No, the eye was instantly caught by the myriad scars scattered over him. Across his chest and down his back splashed a massive burn scar. A shiny pink scar crossed his belly, resembling a swipe from a sword. Over one arm was spattered lightning patterns, where a spell must have gotten through his barrier. The oddest were the cuts down the back of his legs, as if someone had dragged a knife lengthwise across them both. There were many other, smaller scars, from knives and spells and anything in between. 

Not even Bull boasted scars like that. 

Solas caught his staring. “Do you have a question?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“How did you--”

“A number of reasons,” Solas cut him off, his tone of voice acquiring a dangerous layer to it. This was not a good subject to push. 

“Right,” Bull nodded and glanced away, tearing his gaze away from the strange map on his friend’s body. “Same here.”

“That is clear enough.” Solas’ eyes traveled down Bull’s chest, examining the blade scars there. 

Solas stepped into the water, giving a sigh of relief. He sat down across from Bull, sunk in the pool up to his chest. 

“You have made...offers,” Solas said, sinking lower into the water. 

“Yeah,” Bull shrugged. “And you said you had to think about it some more.”

Solas nodded. He was bright red, his blush extending all the way down his neck and to his shoulders. “I don’t have a great deal of...experience,” he admitted, not seeming particularly shy about it, but his shoulders were tense. “If you are looking for a learned partner--”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Bull assured him. “I told you. I’m not about to rush anything--we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” 

Solas slowly sidled over to Bull’s end of the pool, hesitating once or twice, but finally ending up in front of him. Bull’s side of the pool was significantly more shallow, he was only in the water up to his hips. For Solas, it was still fairly deep, coming up almost to his chest when he was standing. 

The water was crystal clear, allowing them to see every part of each other. Solas was drawn to one part of Bull in particular.

“This might be difficult,” Solas admitted quietly, considering Bull’s cock like it was a particularly weighty tome. 

Bull laughed. “You just wanna jump right in?”

Solas went suddenly pale. “If you do not wish to--”

“Hey,” Bull reached out and put a hand on Solas’ shoulder. “Take it easy. You worry way too much about this.” 

“This requires a great deal of due consideration,” Solas informed him, sounding extremely prim for someone who’d just been eyeing Bull’s cock with such fascination. 

“Look, if you do something I don’t want, I’ll tell you,” Bull said. 

Solas’ lips thinned, his expression doubtful. Bull frowned. 

“Most people aren’t worried about that with me,” he said. “You seriously think I’d have a problem telling you when I didn’t want something?”

“Perhaps. I have had--” he cut himself off. “In my experience, people are not always...clear. I find it better to err on the side of caution.”

“You been with a lot of people who didn’t say what they wanted?” Bull raised his eyebrow.

“Enough to know it can be a problem.” 

“Right, well, I’m glad you’re concerned about it, but seriously, it’s not a problem,” Bull assured him. “Not with me.” 

In a way, it was kind of nice that Solas was so concerned about Bull’s feelings, even before they actually did anything. A lot of people didn’t take that so much into consideration, assuming that since he was nominally in charge, whatever happened was fine, which was true the majority of the time. On the other hand, the extreme wariness just made Bull more aware of the fact that most people were genuinely afraid of Solas, for one reason or another. In that case, it was only reasonable to double and triple check for consent. 

“I was thinking more about what _you_ wanted,” Bull said, voice low and husky. “That’s kinda the point.” he reached out and wrapped his hand around Solas’ waist, thumb brushing his hipbone. 

“Part of the point, to be sure,” Solas said, voice softer now, eyes half-lidded. 

“So. Tell me what you want. Because I can guess, but I want to hear it.” Solas’ need was written all over his body. He leaned into Bull’s hand, resting his forehead on Bull’s shoulder. 

“I don’t know,” Solas murmured. He looked up at Bull. “I don’t know where to start.”

“Then tell me when to stop.”

Bull wrapped his hand around Solas’ cock, stroking upwards. Solas gasped, his blush almost radiant. 

“I’m guessing that’s good,” Bull rumbled. 

Solas nodded, making a tiny sound in the back of his throat when Bull stroked his cock again. 

“Use your words,” Bull cajoled. “Come on, you’re always pretty quick to talk about everything else.” 

In spite of himself, Solas rolled his eyes. “Move back,” he murmured. “One of us will slip if we’re both standing.” 

Bull huffed a laugh. “That would be hilarious,’ he said, and leaned back against the lip of the pool to get a more sturdy position. 

“No it wouldn’t--” Solas cut himself off with a gasp as Bull turned him around and pulled him into his lap. 

“Better?” Bull murmured into his ear.

Solas snorted. “Perhaps with less _manhandling_.” he said, affront creeping into his voice. 

“This is why you gotta tell me these things,” Bull said. 

Solas considered, sliding one hand over Bull’s thigh in an exploratory fashion. “It is not...entirely offensive,” he admitted, his blush returning. “One can always appreciate...displays of strength.” 

“Is that so?” Bull slid his thumb along one side of Solas’ cock, which had risen to full hardness. Solas’ back went stiff and he leaned his head back, a shudder going through him at the sensation. “Go on. Tell me what you like.” 

“Your hand, at the moment.” 

Bull smiled and shook his head. “Alright. That’s a good start.” he gently wrapped his fingers around Solas’ cock, as he had before. He pumped his cock experimentally, and a shudder went through Solas. 

“Good?” Bull asked. 

Solas nodded jerkily.

“For someone who can play chess in his head, you’re not really good at asking for what you want.” 

Solas sucked a breath in through his teeth. “More of that,” he muttered, turning his face away from Bull.

“Tell me how you want it,” Bull breathed. He rubbed a thumb over the head of Solas’ cock, precum already starting to bead there. “Fast? Slow? Harder?” 

Solas made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. 

“That’s not a word.”

“Slow,” Solas managed to gasp out. “I want--to feel your hand.” 

“I can do that,” Bull ever so slowly stroked Solas’ cock, drawing another noise from the elf, this one distinctly needy. Bull’s own length began to harden, and he shifted so Solas could feel his cock against his backside. Solas let out a sound through gritted teeth, something like a word but not quite. 

“Bull--keep doing _that_ \--” 

“Sure thing,” finally they were making some progress. Bull continued at a slow, steady pace, Solas alternately tensing and relaxing into his arms. “What else?” 

Solas wasn’t at all used to the sensation of someone holding him, and Bull’s hands upon him set a fire in his veins. He clenched Bull’s arm involuntarily, fingernails digging deep. Bull let out a surprised noise, and Solas relaxed his hands immediately, anxiety seeking to intrude. 

“I didn’t mean--” he gasped, words coming thick and slow with Bull’s hand still on his cock.

“It’s alright,” Bull murmured, and Solas felt him grin more than he saw it. “Just lets me know you’re enjoying things.” 

He was so close already, almost embarrassingly so, but Solas’ mind was too clouded with how _good_ it felt to have someone else close to him that he didn’t think of it. “Faster--” he hissed, the thread of Common coming loose in his mouth. “Just--” 

His back arched as he found his release.

Come spilled over Bull’s hand and over Solas’ middle, pearl droplets clinging to the skin in such a way that made Bull want to lick them off. Solas let out a long sigh, his toes curling involuntarily, and he relaxed. He was probably the most relaxed Bull had ever seen him, the tension vanishing from his shoulders, a contented smile touching his lips.

Solas leaned his head on Bull’s shoulder, eyes closed. 

“If you fall asleep, you might drown,” Bull pointed out, pulling him a bit closer.

Solas scrunched his nose up and didn’t open his eyes. “I am not going to fall asleep,” he said. “And I shall not drown if you do not let me.”

“Solas, pretty much any time you aren’t reading or fighting you’re asleep.” 

Solas frowned. “You would think me that discourteous?”

“I mean, you are about everything else--”

Solas huffed and sat up. “We can hardly leave it at that,” he said. 

Bull raised his eyebrow. “Oh no?” 

“Of course not.” he glanced down at Bull’s cock, mostly hard at this point. “It seems to avoid repetition, we need to try something new.” 

Bull laughed. “I mean, okay,” he said. “What were you thinking?” 

Solas looked up at Bull through his lashes, a slightly devious gleam in his eye. “Well, you have successfully used your hands. We have not the time or supplies for penetration, and we are short of tools, thus by process of elimination, I should use my mouth.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if that’ll work,” Bull said. 

Solas narrowed his eyes. “Is that a challenge?” 

Bull laughed. “Yeah, a challenge in getting my dick in your mouth and not choking on it. The prize is having it in your mouth.” 

“Hopefully, not that alone,” Solas said. He moved off of Bull’s lap to kneel between his legs, carefully situating himself in the pool. Iron Bull’s cock was a bit more daunting up close, but Solas was determined. 

He pressed a kiss to the head of his cock, before taking it into his mouth. He managed to swallow a significant length in one go, something Bull would be more impressed by if he wasn’t so distracted by it. 

Solas’ tongue slid along the underside of Bull’s cock, and Bull clenched his fist, closing his eye and leaning his head back. Solas reached out, steadying himself by placing a hand on Bull’s thigh. He dug his fingernails into the sensitive skin of Bull’s inner thigh, a rare part of Bull that was unscarred. 

Solas tried to take more of Bull’s cock into his mouth, and made an irritated little noise when his throat hit resistance. Bull chuckled in spite of himself. 

“Good start,” he rumbled, rubbing a thumb on the underside of Solas’ chin. Solas made a noise that was almost a purr, and he closed his eyes. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder at Bull’s cock, drool starting to slide from the corner of his mouth and down his chin.

Bull gently reached up and put a hand on the back of Solas’ head, just as a test, and Solas immediately yanked his head away. 

“I would rather you not,” he said, gasping a bit. 

“Sorry,” Bull said. 

“Shoulders,” Solas said. “Put you hands on my--” he let out a long sigh when Bull did exactly that, and relaxed considerably. He took Bull back into his mouth, laving his tongue around the head. Bull took care not to press forward, but found it difficult to do when Solas managed to take even more of him. 

It was quite clear Solas had never done this before, but Bull didn’t mind at all. He felt oddly flattered, somehow, that Solas had picked him to be so intimate with. He didn’t want to bring it up, not wanting to raise that skittishness again, but he couldn’t help thinking it whenever he looked down. 

Bull let out a groan as Solas sucked particularly hard, and he clenched his hand on Solas’ narrow shoulder. Solas shuddered, losing his concentration for a moment, and Bull hissed when Solas’ teeth brushed his shaft. 

“S’alright,” Bull said when Solas hesitated. “Damn it would be great if you had hair to pull on--”

Solas rolled his eyes and pulled away a bit, paying more attention to the head of Bull’s cock. 

“Solas--I’m going to--” 

Solas looked up at him, expression incredibly smug for someone with a cock in his mouth. 

Bull was louder than Solas with his release, letting out a short shout as he came. 

Solas choked in surprise, come dribbling from the corner of his mouth and spattering over one of his cheeks. He pulled off of Bull’s cock immediately, heaving a startled breath.

“Ir abelas,” he coughed, come sliding down his chin. “I didn’t mean to--”

Bull leaned down and captured Solas’ lips in his, tasting himself on Solas’ lips.

When they parted, Solas smirked, and damn if that smirk didn’t make Bull want to go again. His lips were pink and swollen and come dripped off his face, but he still managed to acquire an air of triumph. “I see I have succeeded at the challenge,” he murmured. 

“You have to turn everything into a competition?” Bull teased. “You know, your face is kind of--”

Solas went bright red, but was unrepentant. “So, what of your opinion? I would hate to have neglected something.”

“That was perfect,” Bull grinned. “For a first try, anyway.”

Solas frowned. “Then we shall have to practice,” he said, then flushed again at the implications of what he said.

“Hey, that’s what I plan to do,” Bull said. “If you want to?”

Solas opened his mouth, closed it again, considered, then nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I--for now.”

“I can do for now.” 

When Sera and Cadash came back (both looking quite rumpled, Sera wearing her tunic backwards), Iron Bull and Solas were fully dressed, sitting several feet apart from each other, and acting perfectly normal. 

Sera peered at them suspiciously, but said nothing, accusatory or otherwise. She elbowed Cadash and whispered in her ear, but Cadash just grinned and said nothing. The four of them rode out of the Oasis, finally en route back to Skyhold. 

Bull and Solas hung back, behind Sera and Cadash, out of earshot.

“Hey,” Bull muttered. “What d’you say we try out those hot springs in the Emprise next?” 

Solas’ expression didn’t change, but he flushed a very deep red. 

“I believe there are also some dragons there to be taken care of,” Solas said back, just as quietly. 

Bull let out a breath. “You said you didn’t have a lot of experience,” he grinned. “But you know just what I like.”

“You have made your...unusual feelings for dragons clear.” Solas ducked his head with a smirk. 

“You like spirits, I like dragons. No big difference.”

Solas went bright red. “Not in _that_ manner--”

Bull laughed and clapped him on the back. “We can get more creative next time,” he murmured in Solas’ ear. “I’ve got plenty of ideas.” 

Solas smiled. “I quite look forward to it,” he said, voice deepening in anticipation. “Creativity is quite an...enjoyable trait. And learning new things is always a fascinating experience.”

Bull smirked. “Want to see what we can get up to one the way back to Skyhold?” he asked. 

Solas shrugged. “Provided it’s _discreet_ ,” he said pointedly. “I see no reason that we shouldn’t.” 

“So is that a yes?” Bull prodded. 

Solas met his gaze, stormy gray eyes lit with anticipatory heat. “ _Yes_.”


End file.
